A New Order

by Jacqueline Druga

“He can when I know he can obey the sign out front,” William said.

  “No weapons?” Frank asked. “Dean doesn’t have any weapons.”

  “The intoxicated one,” William explained.

  Dean laughed. “Okay, I’m not intoxicated. When am I ever.”

  William raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to give me that line that you’re sober.”

  “I am.”

  “Hey, Dean,” Frank whispered. “That’s my line. Just … so you know.” He winked. “You might be confused.”

  “Probably is,” William replied and leaned toward Dean. “If you’re sober, then why do you smell like booze.”

  Frank answered. “Because he was drinking.”

  “Frank,” Joe grumbled. “You’re not helping.”

  “He asked.”

  “Dad,” Dean said with a chuckle. “You’re joking right. I had a couple drinks five hours ago.”

  “Dean,” Frank said low as if William didn’t hear him. “In actuality, you were drinking pretty steadily for about eight hours., maybe more. Remember the one that was almost as big as …”

  “Frank!” Dean snapped. “Stop. Dad. We had that trip. Remember?”

  William nodded. “And I heard you disappeared after, forgot you had the sample. Typical. You have people counting on you Dean. The scientific community is testing for a cure and you’re off traipsing about. Get it together. Drinking five hours ago? By my calculations that is eleven in the morning. Par for course.” William opened his office door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to talk with my friend then have dinner with Oliver.”

  “Oliver?” Dean asked with sarcasm. “The asshole that couldn’t hold on to his weapon and got you stabbed.”

  William’s face went from stern to angry. “And I am done with you. Done. Find me when you’re well.” He moved into his office.

  Frank stepped forward and spoke with a loud whisper. “Dad.”

  Once inside, Joe turned around.

  Mimicking holding a phone to his ear, Frank mouthed the words with another audible whisper. “Call me.”

  “I can hear and see you Frank,” William said and shut the door.

  Henry whistled. “Wow, William is not happy with you.”

  “What just happened here?” Dean asked.

  “William hates you,” Frank said. “That’s what happened and uh, he replaced you with this Oliver chump.”

  “Who the fuck is that guy.” Dean shook his head. “Come on.”

  “Where we going?” Frank asked.

  “We need to find out where my dad lives. If he is here, he isn’t there. They’ll be answers there .. I hope.” Dean stepped through the security door.

  Frank paused at the desk to retrieve his weapons.

  “Weren’t in there long,” Bill said.

  “Nah, William hates Dean.” Frank strapped on his weapons.

  “You’ll have that.”

  “Why?” Dean spun around. “Why does my father hate me.”

  “I told you keep me out of this. Maybe if you followed this….” Bill tapped the no intoxicated persons sign. “Maybe there’d be less issues.”

  “I’m not drunk!” Dean blasted.

  “Oh, yeah?” Bill asked. “Then why do you smell like booze?”

  “Because he’s been drinking,” Frank replied.

  “Frank!” Dean yelled. “Stop. Okay. Just stop!”

  “Ignore him, Frank,” Bill said. “It’s not him. It’s the booze talking.”

  “Got it.”

  With a loud growl of frustration, Dean walked out.

  Outside of Containment he paced, waiting on Frank and Henry. Dean wasn’t going to stay in there any longer. What was happening? How could things be so different for him personally. He had only come across a few people and they treated him with irritation.

  Dean stopped pacing when he heard Henry’s voice.

  “Wow, Frank, I really have to dig into the history,” Henry said. “People love you even more in this time frame.”

  “While you’re at it, Henry,” Dean said. “Can you find out what’s going on with me.”

  “Sure, Dean, it’s very sad the way William was. I don’t get it.”

  “I do,” Frank said.

  Henry and Dean looked at him.

  “Something got screwed up.” Frank lifted his hand. “I know. I know. Time. But .. remember the first time we screwed things up. We came through, Robbie was married to Ellen, my dad hated me and I was the town drunk. Well, now that’s you. I’m married to Ellen, still, your dad hates you and you, Dean are the new town drunk. Which makes absolutely no fucking sense because you can’t hold your liquor.”

  “Think of it this way, Dean,” Henry said. “Your dad wants you sober. It’ll be easy to prove that you are.”

  “How did the presence of Catherine and my Dad, make me like Frank. Or how Frank was.”

  Henry shrugged. “I don’t know. But I will find out. We can always break down and ask Jason.”

  Both Frank and Dean replied at the same time, “No.”

  “Okay.” Frank clapped his hands together once. “Until then, let’s go see what we can find out at William’s house.”

  “We don’t know where he lives,” Dean replied.

  “Yes, we do,” Frank said.

  “How?”

  “I asked Bill. I asked him if I wasn’t you, where would he say William lived.” Frank shrugged. “And he told me. Let’s go while my Dad has him occupied. Man I love being unemployed. I have all this time.”

  Dean nodded. He was beside himself. He wanted Henry to bury himself away with history until he figured it out. Knowing that wasn’t happening soon, Dean settled for going with Frank and Henry to his father’s house. Surely, there had to be some sort of information there to give him direction on how and why his life went so awry.

  At least he hoped.

  TEN

  São Luis, Brazil

  There was one candle on the homemade cake and after Corbin blew it out, he’d tuck it away for another year. That was how they did things.

  Parabéns a você,

  They sang to him. He wished they’d sing faster, that candle didn’t have much life in it.

  Nesta data querida,

  It was nice of those in the village to celebrate his birthday, he was grateful for that.

  muita felicidade, muitos anos de vida

  At the end of the song, such as with the tradition, Corbin blew out the candle and made a wish, It was the same wish he had made for the last ten years,.

  He just wanted to get back home.

  He was pretty sure there wasn’t much left or anyone left, but he wanted to go back to America.

  It was the closest he had been since the outbreak.

  He was on vacation, the first time ever in Rio de Janeiro. His wife and he had planned on it for years. They were there when the news of the virus broke, the valet at the hotel, liked Corbin and his wife, probably because they tipped well. So he gave Corbin a tip. Find an outlying village, one far from people. Wait it out.

  He watched how the United States fell in two days, then Russian, the UK, and the day the US went television silent, Corbin and his wife went north first to Puerto Seguro.

  They were able to pick up news of Russian, India, China.

  All the same.

  The virus was sweeping through the countries, killing everyone. Very few were immune …. No one survived.

  Then the world went dark.

  Corbin and many others believed they had been spared, but it came. The virus arrived late, but it invaded and conquered.

  Corbin lived.

  His wife wasn’t so lucky. She was one of the first victims of the virus in the little coastal town.

  There was high hopes that maybe the smaller places around the world weren't affected, that civilization hadn’t completely died out.

  With a group of three other men, they traveled north and within a year settled into a community, Corbin knew one thing. He was stuck in
Brazil and had to make the most of it. He was alive and amongst a community of a hundred. Although he was the only one that spoke English.

  He spent the next several years learning Portuguese. Trying to teach a few English all while trying to figure out how he would get back to America.

  The number one thing he had to do was find out if, that was, anything remained,

  An elder in the Village warned Corbin that Americans were so spoiled that those who did survive were dangerous animals and not peaceful at all.

  Corbin had to find out.

  For years he worked on a radio system with parts he salvaged from an abandoned Navy ship. A ship that happened to appear one day. The ship full of dead bodies arrived eighteen months after the virus.

  It took nearly a decade to get a system that worked and it was only a receiver. He picked up signals from other parts of Brazil, but not America.

  “What are you going to do if you reach someone,” he was once asked.

  Jokingly he replied, “Ask for a ride home.”

  But he wasn’t joking.

  Maybe America had it together,

  It took for him to place the rod at the highest spot for him to get something.

  It was bits and pieces at first, then they boosted the signal and he got words. Complete conversations.

  He remembered when Renaldo summoned him. He woke Corbin from his sleep to tell him he was hearing English conversation.

  Corbin was ecstatic.

  At first he couldn’t make heads or tails out of what they talked about, then little by little he did.

  They spoke about training, about moving troops, mostly military talk. Corbin wondered what they were gearing up for? Surely, if the military was up and running, there was a chance he could get home.

  There was no way though they would even know about him if he didn’t communicate. The system was only a receiver.

  Another six months, he had what he believed was a workable transmitter. He felt like the castaways from the television show Lost.

  Hope to reach someone.

  Anyone.

  It had been ten years since humanity had been brought to his knees by a virus.

  Corbin just wanted to go home.

  <><><><>

  Beginnings, Montana

  It had been a busy afternoon in the ward, Bowman had transported ten patients, and was quarantining eight more under suspicion.

  It brought the total to seventy-three.

  Ellen just wanted to cry.

  While the earlier stages were fine, the ones that had transitioned to the virus stage, four of them, faced an imminent death.

  It was heartbreaking. Time was running out … literally.

  She was feeling better, but she also knew it was a matter of days before she, like the large chunk of people in the ward, would transition to the virus.

  “On a positive note,” Andrea told her. “Lars just told me your latest blood test shows the bacteria growth has slowed, so the B Cell therapy is working.”

  “To slow it,” Ellen said. “What about the others.”

  “More good news. The samples Dean brought back, all of them seem to have a good effect on the virus. With proper therapy and full course of antibiotics, the bacterial stage can be beat.”

  Ellen exhaled. “That is good news.”

  “It’s not all good.”

  A look of worry hit Ellen.

  “The earlier stages of the bacteria the better. It’s a race against the clock. If it takes ten days to kick the bacteria’s ass, there’s no guarantee that the bacteria won’t transition before the antibiotics take hold.”

  “In case like me.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Danny Hoi? Are they able to use him at all?”

  Andrea shrugged. “Roy believes he may be able to. But he wants to also cure Danny. We have today to see how many people he infected.”

  “He has to have some immunity. He has to. With or without the bacteria in him.”

  “I concur.”

  “What is Dean saying?” Ellen asked.

  “If anyone would know, it would be you,” Andrea said.

  “Unfortunately…” Ellen stood. “I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Well, you know this is not unusual for him.”

  “We’re in a crisis, Andrea, why can’t he get it together. I mean, Lars said he totally forgot about the sample he picked up.”

  “Again, not unusual.”

  Ellen exhaled. “I can’t believe he hasn’t even tried to contact me.”

  “He’s in a weird space. At least that’s what Bill said.”

  “In Containment?”

  Andrea nodded. “He said Dean was there again, trying to get in, complaining about Oliver.”

  Ellen cringed. “I hate that. So much for the sign on the door. Was he drinking, did Bill say.”

  Andrea nodded sadly. “He said he reeked of it.”

  “Fuck.” Ellen cringed. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay, Frank’s not around. Has he reached out?”

  “Frank? Of course, I talked to him three times. He still doesn’t know I’m in here as a patient. It’s better that way. I did ask him about Dean. He said they were working on another problem and it’s important.. I Just wished it was this virus. You and I both know, if anyone can beat it, Dean can.”

  “Yes, well, rest assured Catherine is on that. She said if Dean is not in his lab by seven, she was beat his hind end and carry him there.”

  Ellen smiled. “She’ll do it.” After a brief laugh, the smile dropped from her face.

  “You’ll get through this. I promise.” Andrea placed her gloved hand over Ellen’s.

  Ellen didn’t say anything, she just nodded in acknowledgment to what she said. The promise that everything would be alright wasn’t a hard promise to keep, as long as Dean focused and got busy with a cure. Ellen hoped that whatever problem he was working on with Frank, resolved its self soon so he could get back to work on the bacteria.

  It literally was a life or death situation.

  ELEVEN

  The door to William’s row house was open, but that wasn’t a surprise. He lived in an end unit, last row of the living section.

  Frank walked in first, immediately commenting, “Man, something smells good.”

  Dean didn’t notice until Frank had said something, he was more focused on stepping into what was his father’s house.

  He walked inside. William had the place decorated nice. A reclining chair and couch were in the living room both facing a television set.

  Hoi Broadcasting hadn’t changed, Dean guessed.

  Frank kept walking.

  “Where are you going?” Dean asked.

  “See what’s cooking. Man, that smells good.” Frank headed toward the kitchen.

  Dean let out a heavy breath and looked around.

  Henry shut the door. “Do you feel odd Dean?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Oh, wow!” Frank called from the kitchen. “He has something in a crockpot.”

  “What is he making?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know. Looks done.”

  Dean heard the clank of the lid. “Frank, don’t touch his stuff.”

  “Oh, wow, this is good.” Frank said from the kitchen.

  Dean tossed up his hands.

  “I wonder if he knows he has this on high?” Frank asked. “He’s not getting back here for another two hours. This shouldn’t be on high.”

  “I would turn it down,” Henry responded.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Dean said.

  “I turned it down.”

  “Frank,” Dean scolded.

  “What?” Frank came back to the living room. “It’s too good to burn.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Dean asked. “I mean, where do we start. What should we search for?”

  “Anything that can give us a clue about what William has been up to,” Frank said. “Maybe he was sick. My dad said he died i
n his sleep. Maybe that day someone came over. Like Catherine.”

  “That’s possible,” Dean said.

  “Most importantly,” Henry added. “Look for things out of the ordinary.”

  As soon as Henry said that the door opened.

  The young man that had come into the Joe’s office, stepped inside speaking on the phone as he did.

  “Yeah, I’m here now,” he said, closing the door. “It’s not a …” he stopped when he saw Dean, Frank and Henry. “Problem. I’ll turn the crockpot down to low. Low or warm? Low. Got it. See you soon.” He hung up.

  “It’s done,” Frank said.

  “What’s done?” the young man asked.

  “Crockpot,” Frank replied. “I turned it down.”

  “Um .. thanks?” He put his phone in his pocket. “What are you guys doing here?” He then looked at Dean. “Does he know you’re here?”

  Dean shook his head. “No, and I would appreciate you not telling him.”

  “He doesn’t have any booze here any more.”

  “Ha!” Frank laughed, then wiped his hand over his mouth to erase the smile. “Sorry. We’re not looking for booze. Dean was looking for … “

  “Food,” Henry finished the sentence.

  “Yeah, food,” Frank said.

  “I’m hungry,” Dean added.

  “Good. That’s always good.” He looked at Dean. “So are you having dinner with us tonight.”

  “I don’t think so …” Dean said. “Oliver?”

  He gave a partial smile. “Why did you just say my name like you didn’t know if it was my name.”

  “Booze does that,” Frank said.

  “Frank.” Dean scolded. “No, Ol … liver. I just uh, was elsewhere in my thoughts.”

  “I get it. With the bacteria and all. Okay, so the crockpot is turned down, I’m gonna head back to mechanics.” Oliver backed up. “And whatever you three are really up to, don’t worry,” he walked to the door. “I won’t tell Dad.”

  “Stop.” Frank called out.

  Oliver turned around. “What?”

  “Whose dad?” Frank asked.

  “My Dad,” Oliver said.

  “But you said ‘Dad’ as if you are talking to a brother,” Frank said.